


Steal Your Breath: Version 1

by castielsstarr



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Sam, Breathplay, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Stanford Era, Top Dean, this is the happy version of this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 03:38:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5569441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielsstarr/pseuds/castielsstarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean unexpectedly drops by Stanford to visit Sam. Sam is enthusiastic to see him.</p><p>Written for the Wincest Secret Santa 2015!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steal Your Breath: Version 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CaffeinatedMoose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaffeinatedMoose/gifts).



> Merry Christmas to [CaffeinatedMoose](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CaffeinatedMoose)!
> 
> So, here's the thing. I started writing one version of this story and then decided, hey, I'm going to write both! So there is this happy version and there is a version, which is mostly angst, but does have a happy ending [HERE](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5569588). 
> 
> Come hang out with me on Tumblr, I promise I don't bite:  
> Main blog: [castielsstarr](http://www.castielsstarr.tumblr.com)  
> SPN NSFW Multi-ship Sideblog: [wingedwincest](http://www.wingedwincest.tumblr.com)

Knock, knock, knock.

The sound was loud enough to pull Sam from where he was passed out on the couch. He was on his stomach and his head jerked up on the second set of knocks at his door. He wiped his hand across his mouth where drool had slicked down his chin and he grimaced. God, what the fuck had happened last night?

Knock, knock, knock.

Whoever was at the door was going to get it. If one of his roommates had locked themselves out again, he should just let them rot out there. When his feet hit the ground, he tipped over three empty beer bottles. Oh, that must be why his head hurts so much and his mouth feels like cotton. He had been watching movies last night with a six-pack of beer, only to find out that his tolerance was higher than he thought and one six-pack turned into two.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

“I’m coming!” Sam hollered as the knocking grew more persistent. “Jesus, it’s seven in the morning, what do you wa—” He had yanked the door open to find the thing he least expected.

His brother stood there smiling at him with the same cheeky grin he used when they were kids. “Merry Christmas, Sammy.”

There wasn’t more than a moment’s hesitation before Sam had his arms tight around Dean’s shoulders, pulling him into his chest. It was less a hug and more of a grab of desperation, but either way Dean would gladly take it. He wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist and gave him a short squeeze before stepping away.

The smile on Sam’s face could have lit the whole street if it wasn’t already sunny outside. “What are you doing here? I thought you said you wouldn’t be able to swing by?” He nudged his brother into the apartment and shut the door behind him. The headache he should have been nursing by now was all but handled with the endorphins and excitement running through his system.

Dean smiled and dropped his duffel bag next to the coffee table. “I may have been fibbing a little bit.” Next, he plopped himself on the couch, slouched down with knees slightly spread, already relaxing into the comfort of a place that smelled just enough of Sam. “Should I not have come?” He teased.

Sam was on him in a second, settling his knees on either side of Dean’s upper thighs and sitting down on his lap. “No, I’m glad you’re here. Really glad.” He pulled his brother in for another hug and Dean laughed. They probably looked so weird right now—Sam with all of his height and lanky appendages sitting on top of Dean. He couldn’t say he minded. Dean missed his brother’s weight pressed against his chest, even if it was crushing him just slightly.

Sam nuzzled at the hair behind his ear, breath hot against the skin there. Dean would be a liar if he said his pulse didn’t jump and his jeans didn’t tighten. Dean would also be a liar if he said he didn’t want Sam to make another move. He hadn’t seen his brother in almost six months and it had driven him just a little bit mad.

The move didn’t happen, though, and Sam pulled back, but left his arms draped over his brother’s shoulders. “Wait, you don’t have another reason for being here, do you? There’s not a hunt nearby? Shit, is Dad ok?”

Dean laughed and hugged his brother to him again. “No, Sammy. No reason other than I missed you and I needed to see you.”

When Sam pulled back this time, it was only far enough for him to line up their mouths before he went in for the kiss. Both hands were in the short hairs on the back of Dean’s neck, overlapping each other in places, and he couldn’t give a fuck at how desperate the movement seemed. Had he a couple more hands, he was sure that one of them would have been clenched tight in the material of Dean’s plaid overshirt, and the other working its way under the hem of the t-shirt underneath.

His brother’s big hands knew what he needed, sliding underneath Sam’s shirt to knead at his lower back. He hummed lightly against Dean’s mouth at the amazing feeling of that pressure along with the occasional bite of a fingernail. When Dean drew his nails straight up Sam’s spine, he shivered, hips unintentionally bucking forward and rubbing their erections together. He hadn’t even noticed he was this hard already; Dean just made it so difficult to concentrate on one thing at a time.

Dean removed his hands from under Sam’s shirt and lightly pushed away at his kid brother’s hips, breaking their kiss. His head was starting to feel fuzzy, probably from the lack of oxygen when he had his mouth sealed around his brother’s. He tried to lean in again, but Dean pushed back harder, restricting access to anything by keeping Sam’s hips up and away from his body. “What the fuck, Dean?”

“I’m going to be a nice brother this Christmas. I’m going to let you pick your present. How does that sound?” The cheeky grin on his face and that glimmer Sam could see in his eyes meant that this was a very, VERY good thing.

He swallowed thickly and his eyes kept scanning as much of his brother as he could. Shit, what did he want? Dean let him call the shots in their relationship, sure, but there were some things, some special occasion things, that Sam could ask for. While he was thinking, searching for words to ask what he wanted, Dean’s hand released one of his hips and moved to palm lazily against the front of Sam’s jeans. He started to speak once, but even the littlest bit of friction was too good and those words dissolved into a small whimper.

“Since you’re having trouble it seems, why don’t you show me what you want, hmm? I promise I’ll take care of you, little brother.”

Having already made his decision, but lacking the mental faculties to actually say it, Sam reached down and took hold of Dean’s wrist, moving the hand away from his erection. He let it run up the entire length of his clothed body until it hit the exposed skin of his neck. That’s when Sam released his brother’s wrist, shifted to place his fingers over top of Dean’s and brought them to a stop, closed around the front of his throat.

A series of small actions and reactions let them know they were both screwed. Dean’s eyes went wide, Sam’s pulse jumped under Dean’s thumb, Dean’s pupils visibly dilated and Sam’s dick clenched out a small bead of precome, slicking the inside of his underwear. 

“Are you sure about this?” Dean’s voice came out tight and low, rasping around the words, trying to restrain himself until he got the affirmative.

Sam nodded slowly before his voice was able to work, “P-please. Dean, yes.”

In a motion that was swifter than should have been possible, Dean pulled Sam tight to his body, hands placed under his ass and stood. Sam clung to Dean’s shoulders, wrapping his legs around his waist once they were up. Dean shouldn’t have been able to carry him, as tall as he was, but his brother had always been full of surprises.

Sam’s mouth worked against the side of Dean’s neck—licking, biting, kissing, anything he wanted. The taste of his skin was so good that he couldn’t stop himself long enough to give Dean any directions. He simply laid a tap on Dean’s left shoulder when they were approaching his room, and Dean nudged the door all the way open with his foot.

“Are you roommates supposed to be home any time soon?”

Sam shook his head, nose brushing against his brother’s neck.

“Good, then I’m not going to bother closing the door.” Dean crossed the length of the room in four steps and tossed Sam down to the bed. He bounced a few times before settling and even fully clothed, he was still so beautiful that Dean stared. Sam’s eyes were wanting, chest heaving, shirt rucked up a little to expose his stomach, jeans clearly tented and legs spread just slightly. It was fucking sinful. 

His voice was soft when he said, “De?”

That was enough. Dean was on him in an instant, pulling Sam’s shirt over his head and working quickly at the button of his jeans. While his hands worked, he licked at Sam’s nipple, making him shiver, whine, and buck his hips. The movement was making it too hard for him to get the pants undone, forcing him to stop while he got the zipper down and pulled both pants and boxers off.

Dean leaned back over him, mouth latched onto his collarbone, while he stroked roughly up and down Sam’s dick. He should have taken a second to see how Sam wanted to proceed with this, but when he put Dean’s hand around his throat, that was answer enough. That was Sam’s way of saying not to take it easy on him.

While Dean was sucking marks on his chest, the younger Winchester reached between them and pulled Dean’s length out of his pants. Doing it without sight was pretty impressive and Sam worked his hand in time with Dean’s. His hips bucked into Sam’s hand before he got control of himself again. “Fuck, Sammy.”

“I know. It’s ok. We can always go again later.” That “later” stretched out into a breathy moan before he spoke again with a strained voice. “Lube is… nightstand.”

Dean leaned up and bit Sam’s bottom lip sharply once and he cried out. “Good. Stay right here, but spread your legs. We’re keeping you on your back this time.”

When he grabbed it from the drawer and turned back, Sam had his legs spread wide, feet planted on the bed, and he was holding his ass cheeks apart, waiting for Dean. The tip of his thin finger was running across the dry pucker of muscle, but it was still enough of a good feeling to make him squirm. Dean was close to needing a hand around his cock to keep him from coming on the spot, which was embarrassing to admit. 

He kneeled between Sam’s legs, quickly coating his fingers in lube before pressing one slowly into him. No teasing, no pauses to allow him to open around him, just a slow, steady push until the one finger was seated deep in him. Sam’s gasped and his muscles fluttered around the intrusion as he rocked his hips to get some motion inside of him. It wasn’t enough and Dean wasn’t moving. “Dean, please? I need more.”

Dean grinned down at his brother and teased the second finger at his rim without moving the other. “You sure you can take it, baby boy?” He purred.

Sam let out a surprised whine and rocked his hips. God, yes, he could do anything if Dean would keep calling him that. He never stopped loving the nickname.

He laughed at Sam’s reaction and moved the finger inside of him, gently pulling it out before pushing it back in with the second. Eyes wide and mouth parted, Sam wasn’t sure whether to move into the burn or away from it. Yeah, it hurt some, but it also felt deliciously good to be stretched. A sharp smack landed on Sam’s inner thigh, and the moan that wormed its way out was low and wanting.

“Oh, so you still like that?” Dean smoothed his palm over the warm, pink imprint that was starting to rise on his skin. His fingers worked him open so that he could take the third when it thrust in beside the others.

“God, Dean. Will you stop fucking talk—fuck, fuck, fuck.” His eyes forced themselves shut and his head fell back against the bed. He wanted to move, wanted to say something, but with his brother torturously fingering his prostate, he was just a mess of sounds and shakes.

The moment between when his brother removed the fingers from his ass and slid his dick home was mere seconds. He opened his eyes right as Dean slid into him and it was incredible. There wasn’t a waiting period between the initial thrust and Dean pulling out to pump into him again. It was slow at first, but quickly picked up speed with Sam’s moans as an indicator that this was good.

“Dean, I—” He was cut short when his brother’s large hand closed around his throat. It wasn’t a hard grip and it wasn’t crushing his airway, just enough to get his pulse to spike and for him to shut his mouth.

Dean leaned in, keeping most of his weight on his other arm, while his hips continued to pound against Sam’s ass. “No more demands out of you. You will take what I give you, clear?” He removed his hand just enough for it to hover above Sam’s throat. “Respond.”

Sam swallowed thickly before he was able to get the words out on barely a breath. “Y-yes, sir.”

“Good.” Dean’s hand clasped down again, palm placing the slightest weight against Sam’s windpipe and his fingers clamping down a little on the veins in his neck. He had figured out a long time ago what the best method was, especially for Sammy. And good lord, he looked fucking amazing.

Sam’s breath started coming in short gasps, still able to get some air into his lungs. His eyes fluttered closed and Dean stilled his thrusting until Sam opened them again. “Eyes on me, ok? If I can’t see you, I stop.”

A hand wrapped around Dean’s wrist—not pushing, just holding onto him—and Sam nodded once before sucking in another breath. It was then that Dean resumed his pace and cut Sam’s oxygen flow down to just a trickle.

His eyes wanted to close so badly, but he kept the contact with his brother as requested. Sam had no control over his body, though, as it bucked wildly under Dean. He couldn’t help it. It was his body’s natural reaction to the lack of air, but, fuck, it was good. His vision was blacking a little around the edges and his head was starting to swim when Dean loosened his grip enough to allow Sam a few breaths. On one of the exhales he released a moan that Dean promptly cut off by tightening his grip again.

“You’re being so good for me, little brother. Won’t take you long, will it?”

Sam didn’t even have it in him to nod, but his eyes stayed on Dean. God, he was close. He fought against Dean, struggling to get out of his grip, and it only made him push in harder and faster. It felt like he was going to split Sam apart. 

That natural fight instinct caused all of Sam’s muscles to constrict, including the one already tight around Dean’s cock. That was all he could take. Dean started to come inside of him, hips thrusting in one last time before stilling and pulsing through his orgasm.

When he dropped his hand from Sam’s throat down to his cock, it was only two tugs before he was spilling out over Dean’s hand and onto his own stomach. The air rushed into his lungs and he gulped it down. He was so preoccupied with the blood rushing in his ears that he didn’t hear the high keening sound he was making.

Dean looked down at Sam beneath him, his dick still seated deep in that plump ass, and it gave one last twitch of release as Sam started to come back to himself. “Hey,” he said once Sam was quiet and his violent writhing had been subdued to fine tremors along his muscles and a heaving chest. “You ok?”

Sam swallowed before replying, but his voice was still rough and cracked. “Good. That was… so good. Fuck, De.” His eyes were starting to droop some and the shaking was starting to ease as Dean pulled out and found a rag to clean Sam up with. “I think I need to sleep now.”

“Should I let you?” Dean sounded a little concerned. Usually after something intense Sam wanted to be held, sometimes praised. 

“Will you still be here when I wake up?” Sam asked, curling onto his side.

“Of course.”

“Then sleep is good.”


End file.
